Nightmares, Hopes and Dreams
by phantomcat97
Summary: The team has a new job, but that's not the important part. The important bit is that Arthur and Ariadne get to work together again... presumably there will be lots of fluff. you know there has to be. Inception is not mine!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**** why hello there! I have been **_**extremely**_** obsessed with Inception as of late, and felt the need to write FanFiction for it. A **_**perfectly**_** natural response, if you ask me…. **

**And who could forget how perfectly perfect Arthur and Ariadne are together? Not me, that's for sure. This won't be a terribly long story, but I can't promise that it won't give you the Inception Addiction bug. So here it is, please enjoy my hardcore, very fluffy shipping of these two. As always, reviews are **_**very**_** welcome. Much obliged,**

**-phantomcat97**

**P.S.**** do people actually read these things?**

Chapter One: The Phone Call

A month since the Fischer job. That's how long it had been. And Ariadne had no trouble admitting that she was beginning to get antsy. Of course, there had been a unanimous agreement for everyone on the team; that there would be no contact to one and another for at least three weeks after the job. Now it had been a month, and Ariadne was getting antsy.

Dom, Yusuf, even Eames. She wanted to hear from them all. Wanted to know if there was going to be another job in her future. Wanted to know if there was going to be a certain _Point Man_ in her future. Arthur. Ariadne missed him terribly. After the team had parted ways at the airport, all she could think about was what had happened down on the second level of the dream.

"_Quick…Give me a kiss."_

The words echoed across her mind, day and night. She knew there was no helping it, the more she tried not to think about it, the more she _did_ think about it. Ariadne also knew that there wasn't a chance that Arthur felt the same way. She could hardly imagine him getting involved with a co-worker, much less a co-worker like herself-just the lowly Architect. No, he was much too professional for that. In his perfectly tailored suits, with his warm, brown eyes, the way he smiled softly at her…

_Stop it! Right now!_ she thought, upset with herself for not being able to let it go. The kiss was exactly what Arthur had intended it to be: a distraction, and nothing more.

Ariadne sat one night on her couch, absently twiddling her totem between her fingers while she stared off into space, thinking. Imagine her surprise when she was hit with a sudden realization. "Oh, fuck," she muttered out loud. "I've fallen in love with him."

Moments later, her cell phone started ringing.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Ariadne. Do you have a minute to talk?" The voice on the other end of the line _most definitely_ belonged to the one person she _did not_ want to speak to at the moment. Did the universe really hate her that much?

"Of course, Arthur." Wait, that wasn't what she wanted to say. _Damn it! _Even when she couldn't see him, he still had total control over her brain. "Actually, hang on a second. First I want to talk to _you._ Where have you been? I mean, it's been more than a week since I was supposed to hear from you guys! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

"That's actually why I called. I was in meetings all of last week. We have a new client. It's only an extraction job this time, but we're still going to need you."

A new job. This was perfect! No… This was _terrible._ How could she work with Arthur again so closely, and not have her heart broken? In the end, her desire to dream (and to see Arthur) again won out.

"I'm in." she stated willingly.

"Great. Are you still in Paris by any chance?"

"Yes."

"Even better. Our warehouse is still there, which is the perfect place to set up shop. I'm booking a plane ticket as we speak, and I should be in Paris by morning." said Arthur.

The thought of seeing him again made her heart flutter. "What about Cobb, Eames and Yusuf?"

"Dom is home with his kids, and will be until next week. Eames is also gone for the week, tailing the target. As for Yusuf, I contacted him about the job, but he's busy, so he'll fly in two or three days before the extraction."

"Oh. Just you and me, then." said Ariadne, trying not to sound too pleased.

Arthur chuckled softly. "Apparently. I actually have something for us to keep busy with, but I'll tell you more about it when I get there tomorrow."

"Sounds good. See you then."

"Bye, Ariadne."

"Bye, Arthur."

After she hung up the phone, she couldn't help but feel excited. Too excited for her own good, really. It was getting fairly late, so she decided to go to bed. Ariadne found herself unable to fall asleep (kind of ironic, really), and clicked her bedside lamp on. A brass chess piece sat upright on the table-her totem. Carefully, she flicked it, watching as it fell on its side. _Not dreaming, _she thought with a sigh. She couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

**Author's Note:**** you better be reading this! It's not a very long, or eventful chapter, I know. But, it will get better, and there will be far more fluffiness in chapters coming. Oh yes, that is something I can assure you of.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: ****Greetings, and welcome to chapter two! First off, I'd just lie to give a shout out to those lovely folks who took the time to review: thank you so much! Secondly, I want to invite all of you to give me a hand with coming up with a **_**real**_** title for this story. We all know that it needs one **_**desperately.**_** Without further ado, I present you with…THE NEXT CHAPTER!**

**Disclaimer:**** Does this really need to be here? Of course I don't own it. (but the story is mine. All mine!)**

Chapter Two: The Visitor

Ariadne had barely slept. As she examined her reflection in the mirror, she was horrified to see that the usual circles under her eyes had gotten even darker. A little more than a month ago, those would have been caused by late nights that she had spent studying and working. But ever since the Fischer Job, Ariadne had been plagued by countless nightmares each night. Sometimes it was watching all of her closest friends (who happened to be the members of the 'dream team') die in a dream, right before her eyes, looking at her with pleading eyes as they disappeared into Limbo. Other times, it was Ariadne by herself, being swarmed by monstrous-looking bloodthirsty projections. They would claw at her with razor-sharp talons for endless amounts of time while she tried to fight them off, struggling until she couldn't stand the pain anymore.

No matter what the dream was, they all ended the same way: Ariadne would die, and wake up to her own screams. Panicked, she would tip over her totem, and seeing that she was back in reality, try to calm herself down. No matter how hard she tried, after her nightmares had finished, Ariadne couldn't manage to fall back asleep. The images haunted her; followed her around every corner and down every alleyway.

….

Ariadne showered, enjoying the way the warm water relaxed her tense muscles. She felt much more awake after stepping out of the shower, and dried off quickly. While standing in front of her closet, Ariadne pondered what she should wear. In the end, she went for dark jeans and a red cardigan. As an afterthought, she slipped a sunny yellow scarf around her neck and strode into her kitchen. She had just finished pouring herself a cup of coffee when there was a knock at her door.

_Who would be here at eight o'clock in the morning? _Ariadne thought, as she checked her watch. It could have been the old woman who lived in the apartment right under hers. As the grouchy old lady had put it once, Ariadne (apparently) walked as if she was "a pregnant elephant".

Ariadne shuffled grudgingly towards the door, dreading the moment when she would have to face her less-than neighbourly neighbour. She swung the creaky door open, keeping her face deadpan in hopes of deterring the woman's rant. The sight that greeted her, however, was one entirely _not_ of a cranky old woman who smelled distinctly like cat litter.

"Arthur?" she said, all traces of her poker face gone. She gazed at him, trying to discreetly take in his appearance (dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit, as always). "What are you doing here?"

"I told you I was coming to Paris, didn't I?" he replied with a smirk.

"Not that. I meant: what are you doing _here, at my apartment?_ As in; how do you know where I live?"

Arthur's smirk grew ever wider. "Point Man, remember? It's my job to know."

Ariadne was flustered, but oddly pleased at the same time. "Oh. Right. Well, do you want to…um, come in?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Ariadne shut the door gently behind him, then turned around. Her heart leapt up and began to beat furiously. Having Arthur in her home, lounging contentedly on her couch, no less, was just about all she could handle.

Despite her inability to calm her racing heart, she found that she still had the courage to speak. "Make yourself at home." she grumbled sarcastically.

The Point Man on her sofa smiled a little _too_ innocently. "Something wrong?"

"No. Not at all. Do you want anything to drink?" Ariadne asked, unable to stop herself from smiling back.

"Water would be great, thanks."

Ariadne walked quickly to the kitchenette. While she waited for the water to get colder, she spoke.

"So, can I finally hear more about these 'special plans' you told me about on the phone?"

"Definitely. Here's what I've been thinking; last time when you came into the dream with us, you were pretty much not prepared at all."

Ariadne placed the glass of water in front of him. "What do you mean?"

"You need to have proper training. Learn how to defend yourself against hostile projections, and how to keep your mind protected. And, since we can't get started working on the actual job until the rest of the team arrives, I figured that this week would be perfect for doing just that." Arthur continued.

She nodded in agreement. "That seems like a good idea to me." _And not only because I get to spend a week alone with you, s_he added in her head.

"I'll go to my hotel and unpack." Arthur said after a sip of water. "Let's meet at the warehouse at…ten thirty. Sound good?"

_Better than you'll ever know_, she thought. "Yep."

He got up off the couch, and she followed him to the door. Arthur turned around to bid her a farewell, but stopped mid-sentence.

"Ariadne," he said, looking carefully at the darkness under her eyes and noticing for the first time how weary she looked. "You look tired. Is everything alright?"

She nodded a little too quickly. "Just haven't been sleeping well." Ariadne lied.

He seemed to notice. "Are you sure? You can tell me, you know." Arthur placed what he had meant to be a comforting hand on her shoulder, but it sent her heart in to flutters of anticipation.

Ariadne looked up into Arthur's eyes, and seemed to find something so trustworthy there that she couldn't stop herself from telling him even if she wanted to.

Her shoulders sagged, and she began to speak. "Ever since the job, the only dreams I've been having are nightmares. They wake me up because I'm screaming so loud. Afterwards, I'm always too scared to fall back asleep. Dreams like that; are they normal?"

"Actually, yes. It happens to everyone after their first few jobs. Your subconscious is under a huge amount of stress while you participate in shared dreaming, and the pressure only intensifies when you're actually doing a job-no matter if it's inception or extraction-because you know what's at stake. When your dreaming isn't drug-induced, your subconscious plays through different scenarios from the job you just did. They all end badly because the truth is, you know that anything could've gone wrong; any of it could have really happened."

"Oh." That's all Ariadne could say. Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion crashed over her. The relief of having the problem explained to her, so kindly by Arthur, had taken a huge weight off her shoulders. It made her want to cry.

And she did. At the time, it could only be seen as a product of all the sleep she missed, combined with having to stare at the dead bodies of her dearest friends, night after night.

Arthur, a bit taken aback at her sudden mood change, carefully circled his arms around her shaking body. "Hey, it's okay."

"I don't want to see you dead anymore." she sobbed brokenly into his shoulder.

Arthur nodded to himself, realizing that Ariadne had just told him what her nightmares had shown her. He rubbed soothing circles on her back, and repeated. "It's okay. You're okay."

After a few more minutes, she sniffed and seemed to collect herself. Ariadne met Arthur's eyes once again.

He squeezed her arm gently. "I'm always here if you need me."

Ariadne nodded and gave a weak smile. "I'll see you at ten thirty."

"Absolutely."

She gave a brief wave, watched him disappear down the hallway, then shut the door carefully.

**Author's Note: ****Howdy from the end of chapter two! I can only hope I have given a plausible explanation for Ariadne's nightmares. Also, I hope that I have given you a good enough taste of fluff to hold you over until the next chapter (which is already in the works!). it means so much to me that you've seceded to read my story. I can promise you that it gets better the longer you stick with me! Who's excited for chapter three? Here's a little tidbit: Arthur and Ari have a dream together, and it seems quite romantic…..**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**** Ahoy there, loyal readers. So this is chapter three. I won't keep you, but I still want to hear those title ideas!**

Chapter Three: The New Dream

Ariadne knocked on the large warehouse door, and waited patiently after she heard the echo die off inside. The dull thud of footsteps on the other side of the door drew nearer, and it was pulled open by Arthur.

"You're late." he said with a grin.

Ariadne smiled back and rolled her eyes. "Arthur, it's ten thirty one."

The Point Man smiled once again before opening the door all the way for her. As soon as she stepped across the threshold, Ariadne was enveloped in the musty, but pleasant smell of the warehouse. The scent brought back memories of all the late nights the team had spent there, not to mention all of the longing glances she had sent towards Arthur. Ariadne glanced around and noticed that the familiar lawn chairs were already set up next to the PASIV. The small silver suitcase beckoned to her from across the room.

"So," she said, eager to begin training. "What are we doing today?"

"Weapons training." Arthur said from behind her.

Ariadne whipped around. "What? I can't…I don't know how...? _With guns?"_

"Don't worry, it's perfectly safe."

"I'm so uncoordinated, I'll probably shoot you!"

Arthur walked over to her. "And it won't matter because we'll be dreaming."

Ariadne let out a puff of air. "Oh. I thought you meant… Well, as long as it's not real, then."

They each settled on a chair, and carefully hooked themselves up to the PASIV. Just before they went under, Ariadne snuck a glance at Arthur out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't be sure, but she thought he might've been looking at her too.

When she opened her eyes, Ariadne saw that she and Arthur were standing in the middle of nowhere; an endless plane of knee-deep, powdery snow. Large flakes drifted lazily down from the clouds, and came to rest on Ariadne's eyelashes. There were some miniscule dots on the horizon: projections, slowly drawing nearer.

"Where are we?"

"Nowhere in particular." Arthur was giving her a strange look.

"What?"

"What 'what'?"

"You're looking at me funny." said Ariadne, planting her hands on her hips and turning to face him.

Arthur's cheeks grew slightly pink, but it could've been from the cold. "I was… just checking to see how close the projections were getting." he said, pointing behind her.

"Oh." Ariadne conceded. Her face reddened a bit at her stupidity. Of course Arthur hadn't been looking at her.

They stood in semi-awkward silence for a few minutes until Arthur spoke.

"So, here's what's going to happen: first I'll teach you how to shoot. Then, I'll have you manipulate the dreamscape a little bit-nothing too extreme-until the projections can feel it. As soon as they come after us, you'll have moving targets to practice on, and it'll be just like any dream situation on a job."

"That sounds fine," Ariadne agreed. There was some part of this plan that didn't sit right with her. "But what if something goes wrong?"

Arthur looked straight into her eyes, doing funny things to her heart's rhythm. "I'm here to protect you."

Ariadne nodded her assent. "Okay. So, give me a gun and let's get started."

Arthur reached into his jacket and pulled out a small pistol, which he handed to her. The gun felt heavy, but the weigh was good, balanced. It fit well in her hand. Ariadne looked at Arthur, as if to say "_what now?"_

For the next while, he showed her how to hold the gun properly, how to stand and position her body. She fired a few test shots in the direction of incoming projections (who were still quite far away), and Ariadne felt the power of the shots reverberate through her whole body. It wasn't an altogether pleasant sensation.

"Do you think you're ready to practice on the projections?" Arthur asked beside her. "You're doing very well."

A few nerves turned in the pit of Ariadne's stomach, but Arthur seemed confident in her abilities. "Sure. Why not?"

"Great. Why don't you start by raising a few walls, and that way when the projections start attacking, we'll have some cover. And don't forget; I'm here to keep you safe."

Ariadne concentrated, and almost immediately, four gigantic stone walls began to rumble up from out of the ground in a line, each spread five feet apart. They stood thirty feet high, casting huge shadows over the crisp white snow, and towering over Ariadne and Arthur.

He let out a short laugh. "Only you could make a _wall_ impressive."

Ariadne led him to the wall in the middle on the left. Together, she and Arthur peeked around the side of the (two feet thick) wall. There was a horde of projections moving quickly in their direction.

Arthur 'hmm'ed.

"What?" asked Ariadne.

"Those projections are still too far away, and moving too slowly. Add a few more walls to get them here faster."

Ariadne smiled determinedly. "I'll do one better."

With minimal effort on her part, a slightly altered, life-sized replica of the Arc de Triomphe was soon looming high over the tops of Ariadne's stone walls. This generated an immediate reaction from the projections. Within seconds of the arch's appearance, Arthur's subconscious was positively stampeding towards the Architect.

"I think you may have gone a little overboard." Arthur murmured in her ear.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Ariadne tried to sound confident as she readied her gun, and watched as Arthur brought out a gun of his own.

"Just remember: this isn't real." he said.

The snow began to fall faster and heavier. Within minutes, Ariadne wasn't able to see more than two feet in front of her. All too soon, the sound of a hundred pairs of feet thundering through the snow hit her ears, and the first gunshots rang out. Stone crumbled off the walls to her right and left. Ariadne looked at Arthur. He gave her hand a quick, comforting squeeze, then nodded at her; their agreed upon signal for 'go'. Without further ado, they leapt out from behind the wall, guns blazing, mowing down projections right and left. It was going well until it…well, went wrong.

Ariadne was acting on autopilot: _shoot, duck, roll, shoot, shoot, duck._ And so on. A shot, louder than the rest, rang out. It was like everything stopped, then started again in slow motion. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur fending off projections with a fierce look in his eyes. But Ariadne's attention was fixed mostly on the bullet flying right towards her. Her feet were stuck, and she could only watch in horror as it plowed straight through her shoulder.

Fire. Ariadne's arm was burning with the intense pain. Sticky, red ooze worked its way quickly down the sleeve of her jacket, and rubbed onto her chest when she tried to cradle the injured arm. Through the roaring in her ears, she heard Arthur scream her name, but it was quickly drowned out by screams of her own. Projections began to close in, and her vision blurred with pale orange spots. Ariadne willed herself to focus, and in a moment of clarity, saw that the flakes of snow above her were burning. The snow was on fire. Some small part of her brain asked _how is this happening?_ And just before her vision went blurry again, the projections converged on her small form and dragged her to the ground.

The snow was burning all around her, and the projections had morphed into monstrous forms. Hunched backs, clawed fingers, grey skin and bloodthirsty red eyes. They tore at Ariadne, and she continued to scream. This had turned into one of her nightmares. The last thing she saw before everything went black was a red stain, slowly seeping over the flaming snow.

Ariadne shot up out of the lawn chair, ignoring the twinge of pain as the IV was ripped out of her wrist. She was half-way across the room before she simply sank to the floor and sobbed. A moment later, Arthur was at her side, whispering in her ear that everything would be alright. They sat together on the floor while she cried, and when she gripped his hand because she just needed to, he didn't object.

When Ariadne stopped crying, it was dark outside. She continued to shake as the events of the dream replayed in her mind. She was vaguely aware of Arthur gathering her up in his arms and setting her down on the sofa at the back of the warehouse. Ariadne fell asleep holding his hand.

**Author's Note:** **Well, how was that? That was my first time writing a really intense action scene, and I think I did pretty well. Thanks for reading, let me know what you think, and I'll see you in the next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**** Hey there! It's been a while, no? School has been intense lately, but it's officially my winter break (hallelujah), and you can expect less time between updates now! One item of importance before we continue: to reebee1der, thank you for your input on the title issue and as you may have noticed, the story now has the title that you have (so kindly) thought up. On to chapter four!**

Chapter Four: The Following Morning

Ariadne blinked awake slowly. After rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she stretched then sat up. Something fell off of her, and slid to the floor. Ariadne looked down, and blushed after realizing the mysterious article was Arthur's suit jacket. She picked it up quickly, not wanting the immaculate fabric to be dirtied by the cement floor. The jacket lingered momentarily at her nose while she took in the scent that could only be described as _Arthur_. She sighed, and willed her stubborn heart to calm down. She tipped her totem once, then again for good measure. After deciding that she was indeed awake, Ariadne (after folding Arthur's coat neatly over the back of the sofa) made her way to the coffee maker at the other end of the warehouse. She closed her eyes while the coffee brewed, and a flash of the previous day's dream came rushing back. Immediately, her eyes snapped open, and Ariadne decided they would remain that way for the foreseeable future.

So distracted by her thoughts of murderous projections, Ariadne did not notice Arthur walk up behind her. When he said, "You beat me to it. I was just about to make a cup myself." she nearly had a heart attack.

Ariadne jumped and spun around so fast that Arthur was almost maimed by her flailing arms. "Arthur! You scared me!"

"I can tell," he said, smiling in a way that got her heart to race in a whole different way. Suddenly, his face grew serious, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. " Hey, are you alright? You were really upset last night."

"Oh, I'm fine now." she took a breath to steady her voice. "It's just…well, you know. I didn't expect it to feel so real. It was exactly like one of my nightmares." Ariadne absently rubbed the spot where she had been shot in the dream.

Arthur nodded. "Do you think you can hold up for today's lesson?"

Ariadne shuddered at the thought of going back under so soon. "Could we maybe…I don't know, put it off until a bit later?"

"Absolutely." The Point Man replied, his face softening. "Until then, what should we do?"

Ariadne shrugged, and after a sip of coffee, said, "No idea."

"Hmm." Arthur thought. Then his face lit up. "Hey. I know it's been a while, but I'd love to see if your paradoxical architecture is as impressive as I remember. Do you want to build a couple of test models to practice?"

Ariadne smirked, sharing a private joke with herself. _As if_ she hadn't spent nearly every waking minute for the past month sketching out incredibly complex structures, that would only able to exist in dream worlds. Come to think of it, even in some of her moments spent sleeping, she had created things that were beyond imaginable.

"I think that can be arranged." she said, delighted that he had called her work impressive.

Soon, Ariadne was set up at her old table with pieces of foam board that Arthur had fished out of the supply closet, along with a hot glue gun and a wickedly sharp Exacto knife.

Point Man watched Architect. Architect snuck secret glances at Point Man. Both sat in comfortable silence while she worked.

An altered, more twisted variation of M.C. Escher's staircases took shape before their eyes. Curved and warped steps disappeared through openings in the floor (or ceiling, depending on how you were looking at it), while other staircases twisted in full-on loop-the-loops or spiraled together in double helixes.

"Ariadne…" Arthur was positively blown away. "This is _beyond_ amazing."

Ariadne did not speak, but offered him a beaming smile (and cheeks that flushed with a rosy hue). She gestured for him to hand over another piece of the foam board.

The knife flashed in the sun, and cut smoothly through the board. Ariadne measured it carefully, and her brow crinkled at her miscalculation. _Too big, _she thought. _I'll have to trim it._

Then: _ow. Ow, ow, owowowowowow._

Suddenly, the pristine white staircases blossomed with a crimson stain. A gash the size of a pointer finger now settled in the palm of Ariadne's left hand. Everywhere she looked: red. "Shit." Beginning to feel a bit lightheaded, she looked for somewhere to sit. She stumbled forward, but was quickly restrained by Arthur's strong arms.

"Over here; to the couch. Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" Arthur, level-headed as always, guided her over to the sofa and sat her down gently. "Does it hurt? What am I saying? Of course it does." The last part was muttered to himself.

Ariadne nodded pathetically. "Arthur. I can't look. Is it really bad?" she asked, holding her hand out to him.

Arthur knelt down in front of her, and took her small hand gingerly in his two large ones. "It's not too deep, but it's pretty big. I'll clean it out for you, and bandage it up."

Their eyes met, and Ariadne's heart leapt. He looked so worried, so caring, it made her want to hold him and never let go. There was blood-_her blood-_ flecked on the white collar of his shirt.

"Oh crap. Arthur, I'm so sorry! I got blood all over your nice shirt!"

Arthur glanced briefly down at his chest, looking totally indifferent. "That is probably the very least of my worries." He looked back up at her, his eyes shining. "I couldn't care less about the shirt, but I _do_ care about youuu….r hand. I'll be right back."

He stood up and strode purposefully over to the sink. Arthur proceeded to wet a clean towel that was hanging nearby, then retrieve some rubbing alcohol and a bandage from the first aid kit on a shelf. He returned to Ariadne's side, and sat down next to her on the couch.

"Alright. I'm just going to put a bit of the alcohol on it so it won't get infected. This might sting a little."

Ariadne nodded, then let out a hiss of pain as some of the rubbing alcohol dripped onto her cut. Arthur looked at her with an apologetic expression on his face. She nodded for him to continue, and this time bit back a curse when he proceeded to clean out the wound more. Arthur squeezed the towel over her hand, then carefully bandaged her hand.

Ariadne sighed. "Thanks Arthur. God, I'm such a klutz sometimes."

Arthur smiled at her, and took her hands in his. "Don't worry about it. Besides, I think clumsy girls are cute."

Ariadne stared at him for a minute, trying to figure out if he was saying what she thought he was saying. She smiled, slowly at first, but growing wider and brighter.

Arthur released her hands, only so he place his hands on her face. Slowly, he brought his face nearer to hers. Ariadne's heart was racing, urging Arthur to move faster. Finally their lips met, and Ariadne was flying. Her arms snaked around his neck, and they pressed closer together. Kissing Arthur in real life was ten times better than it was in a dream. It could have been seconds or hours, Ariadne wasn't sure. But when they broke apart to catch their breath, Arthur rested his forehead on hers and smiled bigger than he ever had.

"I've been wanting to do that since the day I met you." he said breathlessly.

"Me too." Ariadne said, pulling him by his tie so she could kiss him again.

**Author's Note: ****You Guys: "FINALLY!" Me: "Yeah, I know." Well, like we previously said ( ), Ari and Arthur have finally kissed! And I made you wait four chapters for it. Heehee. That's all for now folks, and I'll see you in a while!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: ****Yay! I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story! I don't really have much to say, so… on to chapter five, I guess.**

Chapter Five: Not Much of Anything

For the second time in two days, Ariadne found herself on the sofa in the warehouse, rubbing groggily at her sleep-blurred eyes. The situation was slightly altered, however, when she discovered that she was unable to sit up properly. She then took note of how unusually comfortable and warm the couch was. And was it…_moving?_ The fuzziness in her eyes dissipated, and Ariadne realized that she was lying on top of Arthur ( both parties fully clothed, mind you), curled comfortably against his chest. As for her inability to sit up-that was due to the fact that Arthur's arms were curled tightly (but pleasantly) around her small body, pressing her to his chest.

It was so much better than waking up with his suit jacket.

Ariadne studied Arthur's face. He was peaceful when he was sleeping; no lines of worry to crease his forehead, and no carefully calculated neutral expression to hide his emotions. There was even the hint of a small smile on his lips. This, of course, caused Ariadne to smile as well. She lay her head gently back down on his chest, careful not to disturb him, and closed her eyes, content in the moment of quiet. The sound of Arthur's even breathing lulled her quickly back to sleep.

...

"Ari?"

"Mmm."

"Ari, I need to get up."

"Mmm."

Arthur gently shook her shoulder. Ariadne yawned, blinked, and opened her eyes with some reluctance. She gazed up at Arthur, smiling.

"Hey there, sleepyhead." he said, smiling as well.

She laughed, then stretched up and kissed his cheek by way of greeting. "How long have you been awake?"

Arthur shrugged underneath her. "Not long. I really do need to get up, though."

Ariadne grimaced at the thought of standing up, and voiced her opinion. "But it's much nicer here on the couch." She proceeded to prove her point by wiggling farther up, and resting her head in the crook between Arthur's neck and shoulder. Ariadne pressed her lips to his neck, and felt his laugh rumble beneath her.

"I agree."

"But?"

"_But,_ I need to get on the phone with Eames."

"Fine," she grumbled. "I guess you would have to check on him. I mean, he is _Eames_, after all."

Arthur laughed again. "I'm glad you've seen reason. Now, are you going to get up, or am I going to have pick you up?"

Ariadne lifted her head so she could give him a skeptical look. "I'd like to see you try."

"You asked for it." he said with a mischievous smile.

Before Ariadne could say anything else, Arthur had slid one arm under her knees, and one behind her back, then stood up so quickly that she threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

"Don't worry," he whispered in her ear. "I won't drop you."

"Good. But how about putting me down? _Gently."_

Arthur did just that. After kissing her goodbye, he retreated to the back of the warehouse with his cellphone to call Eames. Ariadne then decided that she wouldn't get any work done until she showered and changed, so she left a note on Arthur's desk, tipped her totem once, then left the warehouse. While she was walking to her apartment, it began to snow lightly. The flakes were fat, fluffy, and perfectly white, and they drifted lazily about and stuck to Ariadne's clothes, but danced away from the clouds of her condensed breath.

When she got home, she quickly got into the shower. The warm water slowly chased the cold winter air away, and the heat melted deep down in her muscles. Only then did Ariadne fully realize what had happened the day before: she and Arthur had kissed (many times). _Kissed! _Unable to stop the (probably ridiculous) grin from spreading on her face, she stepped out of the shower, and dried off. After getting dressed (black jeans, red sweater, blue scarf), she pulled on her jacket (knee-length, also black) and hat (red beret), then walked happily out of her apartment and onto the street. On her way to the warehouse, Ariadne decided to stop for coffee and something to eat. She dialed Arthur's number while she walked to the coffee shop.

"Hello?" he said, sounding extremely sexy (at least, to Ariadne's ears, anyway).

"Hi, Arthur. I was going to stop for coffee. Do you want anything?"

There was a pause at the other end of the line: Arthur thinking. "Just a coffee would be great, thanks."

"Sure." Ariadne replied.

A few minutes later, she was walking towards the warehouse with two coffees in hand, and a muffin for herself. The snow continued to swirl, and Ariadne was reminded of the dream _(nightmare of a training session)_. Thankfully, the frozen clouds of flakes weren't so thick that she couldn't see, but the memory brought back shivers nonetheless.

When she slammed head-first into the warehouse door, Ariadne was shaken rather painfully out of her thoughts. Fortunately, she managed to not spill a drop of the coffee. But while the lucky cups landed right-end-up, totally unscathed on the ground, she somehow managed to do a complete face-plant into a cold, wet snow pile.

Arthur, having heard the rather loud _bang!_ on the door, opened it to investigate. He looked around, only to find Ariadne lying face-down in a snow drift.

"Ari? Are you alright?"

"Fine." she muttered into the frosty ground. "I tripped."

Arthur reached down to help Ariadne to her feet. "What was that bang on the door?"

The Architect bowed her head to hide the blush, and brushed snow off the front of her jacket. "Fine. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and I walked face-first into the door. Then I fell into the snow. Happy?"

"No," Arthur slid his fingers under her chin, and tilted her head so they were looking at each other. He gently touched her forehead, and she winced. "You have a bruise."

"It's fine." Ariadne bent down to pick up the coffee, then she and Arthur walked inside.

The Architect smiled conspiratorially to herself. She was secretly thrilled that the Point Man seemed so concerned with her wellbeing. Ariadne laced her fingers through his and squeezed them gently. A pleasant tingle shot up her arm when he squeezed her hand back.

**Author's Note: ****hey everybody! Happy New Year! This was a total filler chapter, but I hope it was sufficiently fluffy enough. I know that some people won't enjoy the "clumsy damsel in distress" Ariadne, but a) I enjoy writing it, b) she kind of strikes me as a clumsy person, and c0 it's a perfect gateway to fluffy moments between her and Arthur. But, hey: you can't please everyone. See you soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**** OH CRAP! I'm so, so, so sorry everybody! There's really no excuse for leaving it this long, so I'll just get right to it. Please forgive me! Chapter Six as an apology? **

Chapter Six: Mysterious

A key jingles, then rattles when it hits thick wood. The door to the warehouse opens with a painfully loud creak and someone steps into the silent room. A streetlamp floods through the doorway, but the silhouette of the visitor disappears when the door shuts with a resounding thud. The (would-be) quiet footsteps echo off the concrete floor. A familiar voice calls out.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

No answer. The footsteps continue through the darkened warehouse, only stopping once to avoid slamming into a table. There is a single light at the back of the room, streaming out from under a closed door.

The doorknob turns (silently) and the visitor peeks through the miniscule crack. When his eyes adjust to the light, he can see what's in the room. And he _almost_ blows it right then and there on account of excited laughter. But visitor calms himself down as a deliciously cruel plan weaves itself together in his mind.

He approaches the two lawn chairs with minimal caution, seeing as how their respective occupants are asleep. The gentle whirring of the machine they are hooked up to covers the sound of rustling fabric and sliding drawers. There is a quiet "Aha!" as the visitor strides away from the desk with his prize clutched firmly in hand. He sets in motion the first part of his plan within two moments, and moves on the second part with ease. With well-practiced movements, the visitor is hooked up the same machine in record time. Three slumbering people now occupy the room.

**Author's Note: ****Yeah, you all probably know who it ("Mysterious Visitor") is. And I know this chapter is really quite short. Oh well. You'll take what I give you and you'll like it. ;D**


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